Tenacious, Exile of the Legion Pt. 04

Tenacious, Exile of the Legion Part 4

by G. Lawrence

The Queen challenges the warriors

This is a science fiction novel. It has followed Quinten Tyshan from his early years as a war orphan, his service in the Roman Legion 3,000 years in the future, and his life in exile on the primitive planet of Ballor. There have been bloodthirsty battles and dramatic moments as this dedicated soldier seeks to uphold the Edicts of Minerva. It is not a heavily erotic story, though there are erotic elements and romance in the later chapters. This is part 4 of 6.

Recap: The threat of the savages is now growing, but politics within the Wolf tribe are keeping the women divided. Tenacious, still a prisoner, finds himself caught up in their feuds.

* * * * * *

Chapter Ten

Trial by Combat

Whinny's party reached Taramont in time for the funeral rites. The ashes of the fallen warriors were to be interned in a cave. There were drums, flutes, and tears. As we rode into the fort, I saw the cage holding Jared and Booter had been covered with a large tarp to prevent them from seeing the ceremony. There was talk of what to do with me.

"Ten held Thera in his arms as she died," True said. "He helped us seek vengeance. He should be there."

"No male has any part of our traditions," Ferr objected, still recovering from her wounds.

"Ten did not run from the savages like you did," Lydia chided.

Though only a junior warrior, Ferr had faced criticism for leaving her sisters during the battle. Criticism of Rotanna was more severe. She had commanded the ambushed detachment.

"I left to find help," Ferr defended.

"What help did you find our lost sisters?" Kayla said.

Ferr clenched her fists, ready for a fight, but the bandages on her arm were too stiff. Ota and Rotanna ran to interfere.

"Sisters, we are here to mourn, not fight among ourselves," Ota said.

"They want the male to join the ceremony," Ferr complained.

"That will not happen," Ota objected. "Put him in the cage with the others."

"Ten will not be put in the cage," True said with a defiant frown.

Ota motioned to Rotanna to carry out the order. True stepped in her path, arms crossed. Then Lydia, Kayla, and Thrive. Ota's face flushed with outrage. Ventra and Whinny came running. Scores of others were watching.

"Ten deserves better than the cage," Whinny said. "He has as many wounds as you do, and more than most."

"What do you recommend?" Ota persisted. "Let him wear feathers and beat a drum in the procession?"

"No one is saying that," Ventra scoffed.

"Then what?" Ota demanded.

"Ask him," Whinny suggested.

I had been standing to the side staying quiet.

"May I have a moment of Rotanna's time?" I requested. That caught everyone off guard. Rotanna and I walked to a supply shed near the first barracks.

"I am sorry, Rotanna, to be a distraction on this sad day," I said, gathering soap, candles, and a flint from a cupboard. "And I am sorry at the cruel words I've heard whispered. What happened with the savages is no one's fault."

"What did you really do out there?" she asked.

"What I had to."

I went to the cage, found my chain, and led Rotanna out the front gate. It took ten minutes to reach the lake. There I stripped off my travel gear, knelt naked in shallow water, and set the candles on a log. Then I wrapped the chain around a heavy root, padlocked it to my ankle, and gave her the key.

"Tell me what you're doing," Rotanna said.

"Purifying myself that I may pay tribute to the gods in my own way," I replied. "From here, I cannot see the burials. Because of the chain, I may not escape. With your permission, I will light the candles, bathe myself with soap root, and pray for their spirits. Will this be satisfactory?"

Rotanna paused, dwelling on my request.

"I would have died to save those girls," Rotanna said, her eyes growing moist.

"I would have, too," I whispered.

Rotanna took a deep breath. The valley was beautiful, the day cold but clear. A day approved of by Apollo.

"Ota is not your friend," Rotanna warned.

"Your sisters must not fight over me," I insisted.

Rotanna started walking back up the hill, paused, and then returned.

"There is one part of your plan that is lacking," she said. She knelt down, unlocked my ankle, and threw the chain over her shoulder.

"You should not have come to these lands. It may not end well for you," Rotanna said. "But thank you for saving my women."

She walked away. The funerals were beginning.

I heard the music from the lake, and imagined the tears. I was glad not to be there. In my old age, I was no longer the hardened man I had once been.

Just as the sun was setting, Ventra came down from the fort. She wore black leather from the funeral ceremonies. As the weather turned cold, I'd gotten dressed in my khaki trail shirt and pants, still not wearing boots. The candles had burned out, but not before my appeals to Pluto were complete.

"Whinny has told me of the battle," Ventra said. "You wielded weapons in the Wolf lands against our laws."

"Will I be put in the cage now?" I asked.

"No, yet it puts me in an awkward position. Ota and her band don't know the truth yet, but rumors spread."

"I wanted to obey your laws. I wanted that very much. But how could I stand aside while your women were torn apart? I couldn't do that."

"Even if it means your own death?" Ventra pressed.

"My daughters are grown now. I would be sad to miss their wedding days. Sad not to hold their babies on their born days. But I've lived a soldier's life. A good life. There's little else I regret."

"You have daughters?"

"Three. The age of True and Lydia."

"I see now why you get along with them so well. And why they love you," Ventra observed.

"They are fine young women. If they survive what is coming, they will have long and wonderful lives."

"What is coming?" Ventra asked.

"I can't be sure," I answered.

"I'm organizing a summer expedition to the mountain passes. To find out where these savages are coming from. Would that answer your questions?"

"Many of them."

"Let's return to the fort," she said.

I started to get up with a groan. She lent a hand.

"You are getting old," Ventra said with a grin. "How badly are you bruised?"

"They don't go away as fast as they once did," I admitted.

The next two weeks were uneventful. Whatever rumors may have surrounded me, the women were preoccupied with other affairs. I started spending more time with Jared and Booter, seeking to learn if they were salvageable or unredeemable. Jared wasn't a bad sort, seeking approval from wicked influences. Booter had a chip on his shoulder that needed to be knocked off.

To avoid controversy, I assembled a small workshop outside the stable doors, only roaming around the fort to tend livestock. There I mashed roots, ground leaves, and mixed ointments, meticulously marking the jars. Floy spent much of her days with me. We never got tired of talking about plants, herbs, and everything else of interest to a medicine woman. Young warriors stopped by, often to tease their prisoner.

"Ten, you spend your time like an old woman," True said.

"Are you better with a sword or a broom?" Lydia asked with a laugh.

"A sword? That old man doesn't even have a dick," Booter shouted from his cage. "Come over here and I'll show you what a real man looks like."

"I know what a man looks like," True answered.

"You're a stupid little bitch, like your sisters," Booter continued. "If I wasn't locked up, I'd put you on your back and teach you a lesson. Maybe someday, I will."

I'd really had enough, setting aside my grinder and spoons.

"Open the cage," I demanded, marching across the compound.

"Ten, we shouldn't," True said, following closely.

I found the key, unlocked the cage door, and dragged Booter into the courtyard.

"Here I am, braggart. Teach the old man a lesson," I dared.

To no one's surprise, we quickly attracted a crowd. Thirty, at least, with more coming. Rotanna went to herd Booter back in the cage. Ventra stopped her.

Like many boastful young men, I saw Booter was a brawler. I had been a brawler, too, at one time, enjoying bar fights with my brothers. Those were good days. But in time, I needed better skills.

Booter swung a fist, and swung again. The first two blows missed, and then he landed a punch on my chin, drawing blood from my lip. He struck again, catching me near the eye. He grew more confident, swinging from his heels. I retreated slowly, watching how he moved. Where he placed his feet. How high he held his fists. Absorbing blows while moving back a step at a time. He was drawing blood, but not enough.

"War Leader, we must stop this," True begged. "Ten is getting hurt."

"You must watch more carefully," Ventra advised.

When I heard Booter grunting for breath, it was time. I danced forward on the balls of my feet, jabbed his nose with my left, jabbed again, and then came in with a staggering right cross to the jaw. He looked confused, trying to shake the blow off. I grabbed his collar, punched him in the kidneys several times, and kneed him in the balls, stepping aside as he toppled into the dirt. Then I loomed over him, waiting to see what he'd do.

"No more. No more," Booter groaned, curled in a ball. The entire fight lasted less than three minutes.

The observers were stunned. Silent. I dragged Booter back into the cage, tossing him on the dirt floor with contempt.

"You want some of this?" I asked Jared. "Come on, brave lad. Come out here and prove what a man you are."

"No," Jared replied, backed away as far as he could get.

"No to who?" I shouted.

"No, sir. I do not want to fight you," he said.

"Apologize to these women. Apologize to the whole camp," I demanded. I stepped forward, not afraid to thrash the hell out of him. Grim and ready. Jared wasn't a coward. He also wasn't stupid.

"I apologize, women of the forest. I am sorry," Jared said. And none doubted him. I grabbed Booter, propped him against the side of the cell, and put my hand around his throat.

"Now I will hear an apology from you," I said. "Apologize, or I will geld you like the stallions on my ranch."

"I am sorry, Ten," he wheezed.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to these brave women who have treated you better than you deserve."

Booter looked up at the eighty women surrounding the cage. Everyone in the fort.

"I apologize," he said, sounding sincere.

"Anything more?" I pressed.

"I wish my father had given me this beating when it would have done some good," he answered.

The forest women laughed. I got up, locked the cage, and went to wash the blood off my face in a water trough. As I crossed the compound, I noticed a woman I hadn't seen before. She was not tall and broad-shouldered like so many others. Smaller, with light brown hair and big blue eyes. I would not have guessed her a warrior. Standing with Cathie and Floy, she wore a red wool jacket with fur boots. The moment she saw me looking her direction, she disappeared back into the hillside headquarters.

Teaching Booter a lesson did not win me universal friends. Ota thought me more dangerous than ever. Events came to a head in the late spring.

A wagon from Willowtown arrived at the main gate. It was driven by two middle-aged women of the village, as no men were allowed near the fort. Someone I'd not seen for two months was with them.

"Hello, Belle. How have you been?" I asked, helping unload lamp oil and rolls of cloth.

"They are mean to me," Belle complained.

"In what way?" I asked.

"They make me work."

"That's terrible," I remarked.

"Your friend lacks respect for her elders," an distinguished woman said. Her name was Maggia, a deputy sheriff of Willowtown. "She shirks her duties, and she steals. We come for Cathie's justice."

This I did not care to hear. I was responsible for Belle being in these lands. Had I taken her to Fort Delones myself, she never would have come to Willowtown.

"She escaped from a bad master, suffering much abuse," I said. "She needs kindness, and patience."

"She needs a beating," Maggia said.

"She's only sixteen," I protested.

"Old enough to learn a lesson," her prosecutor replied.

There was a trial, of sorts. Once again the cage was covered so the prisoners couldn't watch, but I was left free. The mysterious queen appeared again, watching from her porch. Either Cathie wasn't afraid that I would reveal their secret, or Ota thought I wouldn't live long enough to betray them. I wasn't close enough to hear the procedure.

"Your friend is found guilty of theft and sloth," Whinny said, coming to inform me. "She will suffer a beating."

"No, that's not right. Let me speak to her," I said.

"What is this?" Ota said, barging in.

"Ten believes the punishment too severe," Whinny replied.

"Lowlanders have no respect for our ways," Ota complained. "As Ten has proven."

Belle was brought from her trial to a low wooden platform not far from the main gate. Her hands were tied above her head to a crossbeam, leaving her stretched and vulnerable.

"Tenay, help me!" she pleaded. "Please, please, help me!"

"Tenay?" Ota said.

"It's a name I'm known by in the river valley," I explained.

"This name is familiar," Ota pondered, scratching her chin.

"It has little meaning in these mountains," I replied.

Belle continued to beg. She was crying as she fought the ropes. A guard hoisted her up until her toes barely touched the plank deck. She was kicking and twisting.

"This brat will finally be taught a lesson," Maggia said with satisfaction. "She does nothing but provoke trouble."

"Tenay! Tenay! Help me!" Belle begged. I sighed, unhappy with the situation.

"Ota, let me take the punishment for her," I requested.

"You?" Ota said.

"I feel responsible," I responded. "Maybe if she sees her actions have consequences, she'll mend her ways."

"Ten. Or Tenay, if that's your real name. You should not do this," Whinny warned.

"I can suffer the punishment better than she can," I disagreed.

"If this is what you wish, it pleases me greatly," Ota said. "Let me confer with Cathie and the queen."

Ota ran off, looking eager. I went to speak with Belle. Most of the women in the fort had gathered around.

"I have asked to accept punishment in your place," I told Belle.

"They won't hurt me?" she asked.

"No, they will hurt me instead. I expect you to learn from this. I'll not make such a gesture for you again, and the next time, it will be worse."

"I'll be good. I promise, I'll be good from now on," Belle said.

"See that you are," I insisted.

Ota, Cathie, and the other senior leaders returned, looking grim.

"You will be allowed to accept her punishment, if this is what you choose," Cathie said.

"It is," I confirmed.

Belle was released from the ropes. My hands were tied before me and pulled up on the scaffold until only my toes touched the platform. To my surprise, Ferr took my moccasins and cut the shirt off me. My pants were pulled away, leaving only a breach cloth for modesty. Nearly naked, it was terribly embarrassing. Not that many of the women hadn't seen me bathing in creeks or being treated for wounds. This was different. More public. Ferr reached to tear the breechcloth from me, too.

"No, that's enough," Rotanna intervened, staying her hand.

I had started out brave, but wasn't sure that would last. And then there was a harsh sound that startled me. It wasn't a cane or a belt they intended to use, as I expected. It was a whip. A leather whip. No different than the one used on me by the dungeon keeper at Arklow when I was a child.

I hadn't prepared myself for this. Memories of those terrible hours flooded back on me, and I realized I was going to panic. Humiliate myself before these brave women.

"Whinny," I summoned.

"Yes," she said, eyes worried.

"I need a gag. Stuff something in my mouth. Please," I begged.

She took off her scarf, wadding it into a ball, and pushed it between my teeth. "Are you all right?" she asked. I shook my head, but it was too late to change my mind.

"Ferr, do your duty," Ota said, handing the whip to her junior warrior.

Though one arm was still wrapped from her wounds, Ferr's right arm was strong. She took her place on the platform, set herself, and paused. Then she stepped back. There was no movement. Nothing was said. I didn't understand what was happening. My arms began to shake, and then my legs. My breath grew short. Ferr climbed down from the platform and returned the whip to Ota.

"Ferr?" Ota said.

"No, not me," Ferr said, walking away. Ota frowned, turning to her second-in-command.

"Rotanna, take the whip. Show this male a lesson," Ota ordered.

Rotanna took the whip, gave it a crack, and then another. It was loud. Fearsome. I began to tremble, closing my eyes. Sweat ran down my sides.

Rotanna stood behind me. I waited. And waited. It became unbearable. My breaths were now coming in ragged gasps. I wanted to cry. Then Rotanna walked off the platform.

"You were told to whip him," Ota angrily said. Rotanna shoved the whip into her hands.

"Do it yourself," Rotanna answered.

Ota took Rotanna's place on the platform, cracked the whip, and set herself to deliver the first blow. There was another delay. My legs grew weak, unable to support my weight. I sagged in the ropes, burning my wrists. Tears ran down my face. Ota appeared before me.

"Who did this to you? Who?" Ota demanded. She pulled the gag from my mouth. "Who beat you so badly to leave such scars?"

"An evil man. When I was a child," I said, choking the words out.

"And you volunteered for this?"

Ota was angry. Angrier than I'd ever seen her. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. My strength was draining away.

"Cut him down! Cut him down now!" Ota shouted. Then she dropped the whip and went to speak with Cathie.

Lydia severed the rope and I collapsed on the platform, quickly surrounded by junior warriors. They could all see my back, that I had tried so hard to conceal. Evidence of a horrific event long ago.

"Get water. Get whiskey," True demanded.

They helped me to a shady bench, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. It took a few minutes as I gradually regained composure, apologizing for the trouble they'd been put through. But the trouble was just beginning.

* * * * * *

My name was not so obscure as I'd hoped. Stories of an invincible warrior named Tenay had been heard even in this remote land. It made Ventra look bad that such a man had been allowed to roam their lands so freely. A council was called. I was invited, sitting in the back and observing.

"Ventra has lost her right to be war leader," Ota declared.

"None knew this male was a warrior," Kestra responded.

"You all knew. Ventra, Whinny, Thrive. Your junior warriors," Ota said. "Now we know how the savages were defeated. By this male, using weapons on our land."

"Is this such a bad thing?" Whinny said. "He saved True and Lydia. He saved Kayla. He saved Rotanna after she blundered into that trap."

The young queen was sitting on her throne. A large, gilded chair with red cushions. It was the first time I'd had a close look at her. She was eighteen or nineteen. Slim. Watchful, often frowning, with a round face and a small nose. She wanted to appear stern, though I thought her overshadowed by stronger personalities. Not a good thing for a monarch.

"How do we know he's a warrior?" Cathie said. "Has anyone seen him use a sword?"

All eyes turned to Whinny.

"None of us have seen him use a sword," Whinny said. "I know nothing of his archery. The only time I've seen him with a knife is skinning bison."

"Has anyone here seen him with a sword?" Cathie asked.

No one answered. How could they? I hadn't touched a sword since leaving mine behind in the hollow of a tree two months before.

Cathie conferred with the queen, who looked unhappy. Was she displeased by Ventra's negligence? Or perhaps she liked Ota better. I was no stranger to power struggles. I'd never been especially good at resolving them.

The queen rose from her chair, standing quiet for a moment of drama. The room held twenty of her advisors and senior warriors.

"Ventra will be offered a chance of redemption," Queen Allandra announced. "Trial by combat. If Ventra prevails, she will remain war leader. If the male prevails, there will be another trial to decide his fate. Ventra? Do you accept this challenge?"

"I accept, my queen. If I cannot defeat the male, I don't deserve to be war leader."

"What of you, male?" Allandra asked.

"I obey your laws as best I can," I agreed. For I thought it a simple matter to make Ventra look good and then throw down my sword.

The next morning the forest women assembled on the plateau. Used for training, the flat ground dropped steeply on two sides overlooking the fort. To the east and south, hillsides provided places for the warriors to sit and observe the combat. There was a long palisade, with towers, defending the plateau from those directions. Some of the women were drinking ale, thinking it a festive occasion. The queen had a booth erected for her comfort.

Ventra prepared herself on the end nearest the fort, Kestra and Thrive helping. I was closer to the east hill, aided by True, Lydia, and Kayla. I was allowed a leather vest, a steel helmet, and a broadsword. The blade was longer than I preferred, but with good balance. How the women fought using such a monster was a mystery.

"Ventra is strong. She has good endurance," True warned, tightening the vest straps.

"What do you plan?" Kayla asked.

"I won't hurt her, if that's your fear," I assured her. "Before coming to this land, I gave oath to never hurt any of your women. Nor would I, even if I hadn't sworn an oath. I admire Ventra greatly."

"I think she admires you, too. May we call you Tenay?" Lydia asked.

"You may as well. The secret is out," I agreed. I still told none that Tenay was short for Tenacious. Though is was unlikely representatives of the Empire would ever visit Ballor, I didn't want any to know of my previous life.

A trumpet was blown, signaling the beginning of the match. Ventra and I approached each other. She stood tall, clear-eyed and confident, much like a woman of the Legion. It caused me to recall my brothers-gone-before. Not all of my brothers were men. Women of the Legion were often given this designation to avoid long-winded descriptions. Cathie, Ota, and Rotanna stood between us, acting as referees.

"The combat will continue until a victor is confirmed," Cathie said.

The referees withdrew. I studied Ventra, as she studied me. She had no doubt of victory, standing a little taller than I, younger, and likely in better condition. She could not know my history, or the extent of my skills. Only rumors from a far-off land.

"I'll try not to hurt you, but expect many bruises," Ventra said.

"Thank you for the warning, War Leader. An old man needs to be careful."

"We'll see how old you are, won't we?"

"Maybe I'm not so old," I replied.

We stood toe-to-toe, then exchanged a couple of quick blows, the sound of steel on steel waking our audience.

Our styles were different. Ventra used both hands on the sword hilt, keeping them low. Not the wild swings popular with the youngsters. Her movements were slower. Methodical. I was accustomed to a shorter sword, with a knife or a shield held in the other hand. One for offense, the other for defense. Ventra liked to take her ground and hold it. I liked movement, going for the flank.

I moved to her side, seeking an opening. She had good footwork, keeping me in front of her. We clashed again. She was strong. I'd need to deflect her blows rather than absorb the impact.

"You are outmatched," Ventra warned.

"I will try to be a worthy foe," I replied.

We weren't winded yet, but as the struggle continued, I needed deeper breaths. I wasn't a kid anymore. Ventra wasn't exactly a kid, either. The more I moved, the more she had to adjust. Our audience was enjoying the match, cheering Ventra on.

A trumpet blew again. We stepped apart, our aides bringing water. It was all very civilized.

"You're doing well, Tenay," True said.

"Do you think you can defeat her?" Kayla asked.

"She's very strong. I'm glad this isn't a blood match," I answered.

"You will face the Queen's wrath if you lose," Lydia said.

"I once faced the wrath of an emperor. These things happen," I responded.

The match resumed. The blows came faster. Ventra hoped to wear me down. My strategy wasn't much different. Wait until we were both tired and then appear to fade. Ventra would have a well-earned victory.

"You're not finished yet?" Ventra said.

"I've got a little left," I replied.

Suddenly there was a sound. One that froze me in my tracks. It was a bullwhip. I turned to see one of the Queen's guards at the edge of the field. The whip cracked again. Ventra didn't appear to notice, the crowd making plenty of noise. The trumpet blew.

"Tenay, come here," Cathie ordered.

I walked to the Queen's booth, her guard taking the sword from me. The Queen stood. She was a tiny thing after standing before Ventra. Her thin eyebrows were bent in a frown.

"Think well on what you're doing, male," she said in an ominous tone.

"What do you mean, Highness?" I asked.

"You and Ventra have played me long enough. Sought to humiliate me with your schemes," she replied.

"We have done no such thing. Ventra is honorable," I protested.

"Ventra has betrayed me. Either she will answer for it, or you will."

"In what manner?" I inquired, not liking the way she was gazing at me.

"You have a choice, male. Defeat Ventra and live. Spare her, and suffer the whip."

She nodded to her guard and the whip cracked again. Apparently the queen had discerned my fear from the incident with Belle. Allandra may have been young, and misdirected, but her instincts were on the mark.

"I was promised a fair trial," I said.

"The judgement is already made. It was made before you drew a sword," Allandra answered. I could tell Ota and Rotanna were shocked. Cathie even more so.

"My queen, his trial must not be decided in such a manner," Ota protested.

"I am queen. I will decide. You think me weak. That I may be defied. Today I will prove you wrong," Allandra replied.

"Allandra, my sweet girl, this is not our justice," Cathie said. "Get hold of yourself."

"When this male hangs in bloody pieces from the scaffold, Ventra will know who rules. You all will," Allandra concluded.

I had nothing to say, and it wouldn't have changed anything. I withdrew, readying my sword. Ventra stood at the far end with Kestra and Thrive. I was sure she had no idea what threats her queen had made, nor could I judge how she'd react. I did know the Wolf Tribe needed her. They needed her steady nerve and sense of fairness. Nor could she be defeated without serious injury. I knelt for a moment, saying my prayers.

The combat resumed. I charged my opponent, swinging with a savage fury. Ventra was taken by surprise, blocking, striking, and backing up. I pressed harder. She gave more ground, not sure what was happening. I began to use wide, sweeping swings, which was not my style. Ventra recovered herself, no longer backing away.

I heard the whip crack, louder than before. My spine crawled. I glanced to see Allandra's personal guard standing at the edge of the field.

"Defend yourself, War Leader," I grunted, going after her again. She realized it was no longer a battle of admiring rivals. It was blood now. Defend or die. She struck back with all her strength. I raised my sword to block, then countered, almost catching her in the ribs. She sidestepped and swung again. I blocked at the last second.

The women who had been sitting on the hillside were now on their feet, mumbling and wondering what was happening. None were happy about it.

The fight took us into the center of the plateau. Blow after blow, steel against steel. The clash was heard all over the fort. Birds took fright, flying from the trees. Ventra was tiring, her swings coming slower. The forest women were accustomed to brief battles, quickly resolved. Not battles such as the Legion fought, that would go on for hour after hour. The training of my youth would be the telling factor. Ventra was a fine warrior, she simply lacked my experience.

At last, it came to a head. Ventra wouldn't be able to defend my blows much longer. If it looked like I was holding back, the queen would have her revenge. I took a final moment to thank the gods for a life well-lived, blessing Minerva for her many gifts.

"Death comes to us all, War Leader," I said, staring her in the eyes.

I struck more fiercely than ever. When I'd made these moves before, her pattern was to block low and counterstrike high. Which I would deflect. I took a final glance at the glorious morning sun beaming down on us, and made my move. She stepped back and came around with a mighty swing, huffing with the effort. I didn't raise my guard. Her blade slammed into my helmet.

"Tenay. Tenay. Tenay."

I was lying on the ground. Instead of my head carved in half, I felt a blinding pain.

"Tenay."

It was Ventra, kneeling next to me.

"Why did you do that? Why? Why?" she furiously shouted. I think she was shaking me, but I couldn't be sure. I wasn't sure of anything.

"I can tell you why," Cathie said, squatting at her side. "The queen declared it was your life or his. He chose you."

"The Queen?" Ventra said.

"Allandra seeks to demonstrate her authority."

"She will pay for this," Ventra swore, still gripping her sword.

"Be careful of your words, my sister. She is still our queen," Cathie cautioned.

Ventra pulled me to a sitting position. Blood was running down my face. The helmet lay dented in the dirt.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I turned my blade at the last second," Ventra explained. "But you still took the flat of my sword. It was a strong blow."

"Is it still day?" I wondered.

Ventra used a cloth to clean my face. I wanted to get up, but couldn't move. Everything was spinning around.

"You could have defeated me, couldn't you?" Ventra asked.

"Only the gods may decide victory," I answered.

Ventra was asking more questions, but I couldn't hear her. Women swarmed the training ground. I gradually lost consciousness.

* * * * * *

Chapter Eleven

Angry Fathers

I found myself in the infirmary, head wrapped in bandages. Ventra was sleeping in a chair nearby when I woke. The small room was lit with oil lamps.

"How did I get here?" I asked. Ventra stirred and waved her hand. Floy came running.

"You've not stirred for two days," Floy said, looking into my eyes. She was blurry.

"Two days?" I mumbled.

"It's a bad concussion," Floy explained. "What do you remember?"

"I remember the Queen being angry with me. And angry with Ventra."

"She is still angry with you. And angrier at Ventra," Floy said.

"Why is she angry with Ventra?" I wondered.

Floy and Ventra exchanged a questioning glance. Ventra left, pulling the door closed.

"Allandra's right to be queen has been questioned," Floy explained. "The reason isn't important now. She feels a need to assert herself. The tribe looks to Ventra for leadership. They have for many years. Some feel Ventra has taken her position for granted, and think Ota would be stronger. But none approve of what happened on the training field. That was a disgrace."

"Leaders do what they do," I said. "I've had good commanders and bad. I've been led to victory when it didn't seem possible. And I've seen thousands die due to one man's hubris."

"You have long experience in this?"

"More than thirty years."

"You still have a trial to endure."

"One problem at a time," I said, closing my eyes.

Over the next few days, I had many visitors. They brought watered wine, fine foods, and flowers. Kestra brought her collie, Rosebush, to lay at my side. She was much like Skyla, my beloved sheepdog at Twin Forks. I was not able to sit up right away, it would make the room spin around, but gradually my focus returned. It seemed the gods still had plans for me.

True, Lydia, and Kayla attended me most often, bringing vegetable soup and molasses cakes.

"Have young warriors nothing better to do than trouble the sleep of an old man?" I asked.

"We are busier now that you aren't shoveling the stables," True said with a laugh.

"Where did you learn so much about horses?" Lydia inquired.

"It's a long story. How did you young ladies become warriors?" I replied.

"Us? I don't know," Lydia said. "We've always wanted to be warriors."

"When we were little girls in the village, it was all we spoke of," True added. "We had races. Wrestled. Hunted. Only the best would even have a chance, so we competed all the time."

"The boys were so envious," Kayla said with a grin.

"Breanna was the strongest, but she didn't receive a summons," Lydia said with evident satisfaction. The women saw my question.

"She was boastful. She swaggered around the village whenever she won a tournament, belittling the losers," True explained. "Whinny said she lacked a warrior's temperament."

"She was a good fighter," Kayla conceded.

"Whinny is wise in this. Being a good fighter isn't enough," I said. "Skill is important. Bravery is important. But a true warrior places the unity of the army above all."

"Must there be perfect unity?" Kayla asked.

"What do you mean, Ky?" True said.

"What if ...? No, never mind. I don't mean anything," Kayla replied, looking down.

Her sisters were not convinced. It wasn't my place to pry.

Whinny and Kestra were also good company. Even some of Rotanna's junior warriors stopped by. I would not call it tiresome. I enjoyed their company, and they reminded me greatly of my daughters, who I missed, but I wanted to be outdoors. Doing something. Even cleaning the stables was something to look forward to.

After two weeks of idleness, Ventra came to my room and chased everybody away. She carried one of the shields I'd made of bison hide.

"Whinny has told me of your battle in the gulch. And how they used these protectors to fend off many enemies."

"Did they explain that I used a tent pole as a weapon?"

"We will not talk of that. This method of war you used against the savages appears effective. I would know more of it. And more of these shields. It seems too flimsy to be of service."

I took the shield, giving it a close inspection. It had been seriously battered during the fighting. Torn by claws. Bitten. Mangled. And it hadn't been well-made in the first place, being a temporary measure.

"Did Whinny say how the shields were used?" I asked.

"She said her women stood very close together, forming a wall."

"Cohorts of the Legion fight as a unit, not individuals," I explained. "This gives an ability to challenge great numbers of enemies. I do not dismiss the fighting style of your women. When forced to fight alone, I use similar techniques. Great battles need to be fought differently."

"I wish you to teach me these techniques," Ventra urged. "And how to make these shields."

"This shield is inadequate. A resort to desperation."

"We have a blacksmith in Willowtown. He acts as our armorer. Could you show him how to make a better shield?"

"Yes, that would not be difficult," I agreed.

"The savages are coming, aren't they? Your comet?"

"I fear so, but I don't know enough about their activity in this region to estimate the threat."

Ventra brought out a flask of whiskey and sat on the foot of the bed, forcing Rosebush to move over. I gave the dog a pat on the head.

"You are getting stronger. You need this," she said, pouring me a cup.

"Thank you, War Leader," I said, taking a grateful sip.

"I am not your war leader. You will call me Ventra. I will call you Tenay. Unless you prefer Quinten."

"That name disappeared a long time ago."

"So here is a story, Tenay. These mountains had no savages for a generation. Long enough that we grew complacent. Fifteen years ago, a hunting party was attacked. Our queen, Massandra, rode out to drive them from our land. They were overwhelmed. Massandra died. So did her oldest daughter and heir. Most of the senior warriors fell with her. I was there, just a young warrior. So was Ota, Rotanna, Kestra, and Whinny. The savages were not defeated, they simply chose to go a different direction."

"They follow rivers and game trails," I mentioned. "They prefer the spring when migrating herds have their young, which are easier to kill. They hibernate during the winters, seeking hidden burrows. Their breeding grounds appear to be in the east, high in the mountains."

"That explains many things. Will you teach us to fight them in this new way?"

"Is that what your women want?"

"It's what I want," Ventra answered.

"Your queen may have other ideas. And Ota. I'm in trouble enough already."

"Cathie and Floy are speaking with Allandra. They will resolve this."

"Resolve?"

"You are a soldier who came to this land without weapons. You can escape anytime you want, but haven't. The junior warriors have heard the stories that True and her bunkmates are telling. Of your skill, and courage. You could have defeated me to save yourself. None of us are blind to this. Allandra needs to put aside her pride for the good of the tribe. This is what Cathie and Floy will speak of."

I had occupied the infirmary long enough, returning to my tarp near the cage. Not all of the women where happy about that, believing I should be allowed a room. When that was denied, they erected a tent for me with a raised platform to keep my sleeping furs out of the mud. It was very thoughtful.

There were no snide remarks from Jared and Booter. Someone had given them better clothes and a canopy over their cage.

"Are you truly Tenay?" Jared said.

"What do you know of Tenay?" I asked.

"We know those who oppose you don't prosper," Booter said.

"Will we be having more trouble?" I inquired.

"No, no more trouble," Jared quickly said. "I would ride at your side, if you let me."

"Perhaps, if you are sufficiently reformed," I partially agreed.

"I only want to go home," Booter offered. "If the women let me out of this cage, I promise to never bother them again."

"I'll see what I can do, provided you understand the consequences."

"Consequences?" Booter asked.

"If you accept parole on my word, and my word is betrayed, it will be personal. Only blood will satisfy my honor."

* * * * * *

A few days later, a wagon rolled out the gate for the trip to Willowtown. I wanted to ride a horse, but Floy refused my request. I felt fine. Mostly. She was cautious. My usual crew rode with me, True, Lydia, and Kayla. One of Ota's warriors, Pernella, was our teamster, with Ferr scouting. All were young, strong, and eager. None of the senior warriors joined us, which I found curious. We carried hides, dried meats, wool, and bone for making tools.

It was a pleasant trail. Spring was giving way to summer. We were a bit far west and south for savages, though we remained watchful.

"I have not thanked you for saving us that day," Ferr said, riding close. She still carried scars from the fight a month before. Trophies, not blemishes.

"It was a battle. We all do our duty," I said.

"You are not a member of the Wolf Tribe, yet you fought for us," Ferr insisted.

Ferr was the oldest of our party, at 25, the same age as Thrive, with curly red hair and freckles. She wasn't tall, but had long arms and legs. A fine warrior.

"I am very fond of the Wolf Tribe," I responded.

"I'm sorry I almost stripped you that day. Before the entire fort. On the whipping platform. I'm glad Rotanna stopped me."

"You saw me naked at the Well, when True was trying to stop the bleeding," I reminded her. "So have others."

"Which I should have learned from. I was being a child in seeking to humiliate you in such a way. I promise never to dishonor you again," Ferr assured me. "There is talk of you being Tenay."

"What do you know of Tenay?" I asked.

"Almost nothing, but I'm studying," Ferr said, pushing ahead to ride with Lydia.

We paused for lunch in a green meadow. Deer lingered in the woods, but we had no time to hunt. Not that I would have been allowed a weapon. By late afternoon we crested a hill to find the large village near a blue river. I had seen the settlement on my way to Taramont from a distance. The forest women did not speak much of it around me.

It was a typical frontier town with rows of craft shops arranged around a central plaza. I saw two taverns. At the lower end of the village, there was a blacksmith, pens filled with sheep, and a tannery. The quaint cabins and cottages were well-maintained. For some reason, I thought the men of the village were held in service to the forest women. Little better than slaves. That wasn't what I was seeing.

"How many live here?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Lydia replied. "Many hundreds, at least. Maybe a thousand."

A group of hunters walked by. Three women and two men, all carrying bows and quivers of arrows.

"Men with weapons?" I whispered to True.

"A few hunters are permitted. They pick up the bows when they leave, and return them to the armory when they come back," True explained. "Their knives may only be used to clean kills."

"You trust them in this?"

"Why shouldn't we? This is our town. They are our people," True answered. "Many of the men you see here are our fathers, though mine passed away a few years ago."

"I am sorry for your loss," I said.

"He was a good man," True replied.

I climbed down from the wagon with Ferr's help, glad the bouncing was over. A small crowd watched, not daring to come too close. Lydia saw a couple emerge from the pottery shop and ran toward them, arms outstretched.

"Lydia still has both of her parents," True explained. "They wanted her to take up crafts instead of a sword."

"My father wanted that, too," Kayla said, pointing toward the candle shop. I watched to see if anyone would emerge, but the door remained closed. Perhaps Kayla's father was still disappointed.

"No one to greet you?" I asked True.

"My foster mother is kind, but she has four children of her own. I appreciate what she did for me, but we are not close," True responded.

"What of Ferr?" I wondered, seeing her busy with the horses. True turned me aside, whispering.

"Both of her brothers left the village on their twelfth birthdays, as tradition allows, and then her father disappeared. Ferr thinks he followed them. Her mother was broken-hearted and died a year later. She's alone now."

"She's not alone," I disagreed. "She has you, and Kayla, and her sisters."

"Sometimes sisters are not enough," Kayla remarked.

"Look, there's Stam. Be nice, she's the leader," True warned.

"Welcome back, True," a stout older woman said, approaching boldly. "Who is this stranger?"

"Thank you, Stam," True said. "This is Tenay."

"And I am a tooth-goddess," Stam said with a laugh. But no one was laughing with her. The smile disappeared. "Is he a prisoner?"

"I suppose so. Why do you ask?" True replied.

"We need to talk," Stam said, brow furrowed.

I put her at fifty, modestly overweight, the curling black hair tinged with gray. Her hazel eyes betrayed a perceptive intelligence. She led me to the nearest tavern, finding a table in the corner.

"Tenay, are you well treated?" Stam asked.

"Well enough, mother. Thank you," I replied.

"I am the mayor. The Mayor of Willowtown. May we get you water? Ale?"

"Ale would be nice," I agreed. My traveling companions looked confused. Stam took them aside, though I could hear them.

"Has Allandra not caused enough trouble holding those young men?" Stam chastised. "Now you take Tenay prisoner?"

"Stam, we don't understand," Ferr said.

"He is leader of the river valley, with hundreds of friends. Thousands of followers. If they learned of this, an army would march on us," Stam explained.

I could not let that pass, even if it might be true.

"Your honor, do not fret. I am long retired from leadership in the river valley," I explained. "I came to this land of my own free will, knowing the laws. Selena had me give oath. There will be no armies."

"How fares my sister?" Stam asked.

"She has many healthy children and a good husband," I replied.

"My lord, how may we serve you?" Stam requested.

"Ventra has given me a task. On the plains, I fashioned a war shield out of bison hide. It wasn't very strong. Have you a craftsman to help make better ones?"

"My husband is the best craftsman in Willowtown. I will fetch him," Stam said. As she rushed off, I waved my young warriors over, making them sit.

"Sisters, I am sorry not to have been forthright," I whispered. "I did not realize Willowtown knew so much of foreign affairs."

"You seem to be famous," Lydia said.

"It's true I have friends along the river. I also have enemies. They would not be sad if I disappeared. Still, we should not talk about what happened at Taramont. Stam might get the wrong idea."

"That Allandra had you chained, nearly beaten, and almost slain?" Kayla said.

"Pretend I am a guest so there will be no trouble," I urged.

"We will pretend," True said. "Only because you say we must. Do we agree, sisters?"

They all agreed, much to my relief. Were I to encounter an unfortunate fate, I doubted an army would march on Taramont seeking revenge. But if Champion heard, she would burn Taramont to the ground.

Stam's mate was Arl, a giant of a man with a big grin, huge arms, and a hearty laugh. He was a woodworker, blacksmith, tanner, potter, farmer, and hunter. If there was anything he couldn't do, I never heard of it. He and Stam had six children, none of them warriors.

"I have not heard of the women using shields," Arl said.

"They were not common on Ballor until recently. I used them when I served the Legion," I explained, sitting in his workshop wearing an apron and drinking wheat beer.

"In what manner did you serve?" Arl asked.

"I was a scout."

"Ah, good skills to have on a world such as this."

"Life in Willowtown does not seem so bad," I said, hinting for information.

"It's a great life," Arl replied. "My wife is the cleverest woman in the village. My children are strong. The land is rich. Until recently, there was little trouble."

"Until recently?"

"We have more neighbors than in times past."

I looked out the door, seeing a familiar face. Then leaned back so she wouldn't see me.

"How has Belle been?" I asked.

"The lass has mended her ways. That beating the Wolf women gave her did some good."

"Really? They gave her a beating?"

"Belle doesn't speak of it. Or anything she shouldn't speak of. She's a good worker. Respectful. Now that she is of age, she will have no trouble finding a husband if she wants one."

"That would be something to see," I said with a smile.

We drew diagrams for making shields, discussed the best materials, and made a schedule for delivering them. Arl would speak with Cathie about arranging payment, for he did not labor for free.

It was too late for a wagon trip back to the fort. A tall blockhouse was generally used by visiting forest women, two stories high with bunks, supplies, and an observation post on the roof. I was offered a room on the second floor of the Elk Horn Tavern and quickly accepted. The bed had a feather mattress. The bureau held a wash basin, and the latrine down the hall had a shower with hot water. Windows looked out on the town square. All very civilized. I went downstairs for a big meal and beer, telling Ferr if she really wanted to thank me, she could buy.

"Willowtown isn't what I expected," I mentioned to Stam, sitting with her in the tavern.

"It never is," Stam replied. "In the early days, only women lived in these lands. And the few men they captured. This wasn't a town, it was a camp. With walls. And cages. But a society cannot live in such a way. Over the years, the town grew. Restrictions relaxed. Many warriors did not like the way their fathers were treated and demanded change. It's funny, in a way."

I refilled her cup, and mine. "How is that?"

"The Queen and her warriors believe they are the heart and soul of the Wolf Lands, but they are wrong. Willowtown is the heart of these lands. We have the farms. The shops. The livestock. We trade with the Lower Reach. The fort is our protection, feared by thieves and enemies. We do not serve the warriors, they serve us."

Stam laughed and raised her cup, tapping mine.

"You will not tell them, will you?" Stam playfully asked.

"It will be our secret," I agreed.

"What brings the Great Tenay to such a wilderness?"

"For the first time in many years, savages were spotted along the Great Mother River. I'm seeking to track their movements."

"Is there danger of their return?"

There was trouble on the eastern plain, but nothing this far south. We should not panic. Spring is nearly over. If there is no trouble through the summer, all might be well."

"I will tell the council. We will be careful."

"It's always good to be careful."

"Do you need a woman for the night?" she asked.

"I did not realize the tavern offered such services," I said in surprise.

"Oh, nothing like that. For every woman who leaves Willowtown to become a warrior, there are seven who don't. And you are a good-looking man. I can call for volunteers."

She pointed across the room to an attractive young woman in her late twenties with long auburn hair who was tending bar. When Sharona looked up at me, she smiled. Stam laughed again. She was having a good time. So was I. On such a short visit, I did not plan on sleeping with Sharona. But it wouldn't hurt to make small talk.

We were up early the next morning, readying the wagon. Our goods had been dropped off, exchanged for sugar, wax, and lamp oil. Arl outfitted me with new clothes of brown wool, blue cotton, and red felt. He gave me a nice pair of black leather boots. I was bringing three shields to show Ventra. It would take time to make more if that's what she decided.

"You'll be back soon, won't you, Tenay?" Belle said as I was preparing the horses, having finally tracked me down. Which wasn't hard. She was a cook at the Elk Horn.

"I expect so. We can still make arrangements for you to go to Fort Delones."

Belle looked at a handsome young lad watching from the corral. A lanky teenager staring at her with unkempt hair and a yearning in his heart.

"No, I like it here," Belle replied.

There was a clanging from the blockhouse. An alarm bell. The village folk began scrambling. Younger women found spears. Half a dozen of the older men arrived with bows. They stood at the edge of the village behind a rock wall.

"What is it?" I asked, going to Stam.

"It's those ranchers again. From the Grasslands. More of them this time. They want the boys being held at the fort," Stam explained.

I went to the wall, standing next to Arl. There were forty or fifty riders, a score of pack horses, and plenty of weapons. It was a militia, come to fight.

"What do you want to do?" I said.

"If we can hold them off for a day, the warriors will come from Taramont to help," Stam said. She sounded nervous. A lot of people could be hurt before reinforcements arrived.

"How many archers do you have?" I inquired. Stam looked around. Her people were not warriors.

"We can muster thirty archers, if we arm more of the men," she replied. The village was frightened, too, the women herding children inside. Those standing at the wall looked ready to run. I noticed the curly-haired boy standing near Belle, ready to protect her, but scared to death. He had never been allowed training in arms.

"Please do it," I instructed. "Ferr, Pernella, you are good with spears. Go on top of the watch tower. Don't throw unless given the word. True, Lydia, Kayla, find your armor. Get mounted. You remember how we hunted the bison? Be ready."

"Tenay, are you taking command?" Stam asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I am taking command," I answered, removing my coat.

"My people, take heart!" Stam shouted, raising her hands. "The Great Tenay will lead us this day!"

A cheer went up. Frightened faces grew more confident. Women gathering their children took hope. An excited energy ran down the line of defenders. I turned toward the young women warriors, wondering if they would accept my orders. They looked astonished by the villagers' reactions.

"Are you ready for battle, sisters?" I asked.

They jumped into action. A burly man on a tall horse slowly rode forward under a flag of truce.

"Belle, fetch me a handful of ground pepper," I said.

She hurried back to the tavern, returning just as the flagbearer halted twenty yards away.

"Everyone, hold your positions," I said. Then I climbed over the wall, walking within several feet of him.

"What do you seek?" I asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Mr. Masson and Mr. Dugger want their sons back," the big man said.

"We will honor your flag. Send your master forward," I replied.

"He is my employer, not my master."

"Be careful who you die for," I cautioned.

He returned to the militia, speaking with a middle-aged man sturdily outfitted in battle leather and a steel helmet. I assumed it was Masson. He approached, remaining on his horse, staying beyond the range of the watchtower spears.

"I am Regard Masson. I want my son back. And Dugger's son. Those foul bitches must release them or I will destroy their town."

He had a loud, firm voice. His militia could hear all, as could the village. I could be loud, too.

"Your sons are accused of serious crimes, though I do not believe they have evil hearts. I have offered to stand counsel for them. If there is no trouble, their punishment will not be harsh."

"That's unacceptable. Deliver my son," Masson demanded.

"It's the law of these lands, and the law of many others. If you disarm and send your men home, I will arrange for you to see your boys."

"You don't make demands here. Stand aside or feel my wrath."

"I've felt the wrath of bigger men than you," I replied.

"Who are you, stranger?"

"I am Tenay."

That caused a stir in his ranks. Masson stared at me, wondering if it was true.

"Tenay is only a legend. A myth to frighten outlaws," he said.

"I will show you a myth," I answered, walking closer. "If you attack this village, you will be repulsed. Then I will follow your retreat, picking your men off one-by-one. Killing your horses to put you on foot. And when I reach your ranches, I will burn your barns, slaughter your cattle, and poison your wells. If you want a war, here I am."

"How do I know you are really Tenay?"

With a quick move, I threw the handful of pepper into his horse's eyes. It bucked, forcing him to grab the pummel. I was on him like a panther, dragging him from the saddle, throwing him to the ground, and kneeling on his chest with True's hunting knife pressed against his throat.

"Do you still want to fight?" I asked.

"No," he grunted. I backed off, reached out my hand to help him up, and brushed down his coat.

"I have promised to aid your son," I said. "In most of the lands I travel, my word is not questioned."

"I will not question it now," Masson agreed. He went to consult with his men. They turned back the way they came, except for Dugger and two of their ranch hands. Both were older men towing pack horses.

* * * * * *

There was much to do and little time to do it. I called the village leaders together.

"Stam, was a courier sent to Taramont?" I asked.

"Yes, the moment the bell rang," she confirmed.

"You need to dispatch another. Ferr is a good rider. Have her tell Ventra the village is not in danger. Tell Cathie she must come to negotiate with these ranchers. They need to bring the boys. Arl, instruct several of your hunters to follow Masson's militia back to their own lands. Keep a distance. Don't engage. Sharona, Belle, prepare rooms in the Elk Horn for Masson and Dugger. The best you have. Treat them as honored guests."

"Guests? They came to attack us," Belle said.

"They aren't attacking you now. Kayla, care for their horses. Find rooms for their servants in the bunkhouse. Be civil. Arrange a big meal."

"This is very strange," Sharona said.

"Everybody, you have tasks to perform," I urged. "True, Lydia, at my side."

Masson and Dugger were returning to the village. I went to escort them, True and Lydia as guards.

"Hunters from Willowtown will make sure your men don't get lost on the trail home," I warned.

"We understand the situation," Masson replied. "Will we be allowed to see our sons?"

"I am not a leader in these lands. I'm not even allowed to carry a weapon," I explained.

"You held a knife to my throat," Masson recalled.

"It was a skinning blade used for bison. It was not a weapon," I fibbed. And then I laughed. True and Lydia laughed. Masson and Dugger saw our expressions, and they laughed. It was a good joke.

"The men of the Grasslands are very displeased with your infuriating forest women," Dugger said.

"The forest women are unhappy with your ranches encroaching on their hunting grounds," I responded.

"They are our lands," Dugger insisted.

"Land belongs to those with the strength and wisdom to hold them," I grimly said. "Have you had trouble with savages?"

"Savages? No, not for many years," Masson replied.

"They attacked a group of hunters on the plains. Three forest women were killed. Many more were injured."

"We have not heard of this," Masson said, genuinely concerned.

"If the savages migrate southwest from the Blue Mountains, they will overrun these lands," I warned.

"I was still a boy the last time that happened," Duggar said. "We lost family, and ponies, and cattle. Those were evil days."

"You are fortunate to have the fort of the forest women as a first line of defense, are you not?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Masson confessed.

"Perhaps it's time you did," I suggested.

As I didn't want these men walking around the village in battle gear, I took them to the general store. Arl caught up with us.

"Armor and helmets don't make the best impressions, and you need to give up your weapons," I said. "This is Arl, the mayor's husband. Your weapons will be returned when you leave."

Their swords were surrendered with reluctance. Understandably. Arl found appropriate outfits for them, the ranchers being of similar builds. We emerged into a clear late morning, going toward the tavern.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"All we've had is trail food these last three days," Masson answered.

When we entered the Elk Horn, Sharona and Belle were waiting. They wore colorful flowered dresses with low necklines and curtsied. We ate roast beef sandwiches on wheat bread, black beans, green sprouts, and drank plenty of ale.

Horses were heard just after sunset. Reaching Taramont and returning doesn't take long when not driving a wagon. Ventra was in the lead. Whinny, Kestra, Thrive, and four young warriors were with her. Farther back on the trail, I saw Cathie riding with Jared and Booter, escorted by six heavily armed guards.

"You look ready for battle, War Leader," I said, strolling into the plaza lit with torches. The village was quiet, the people going about their evening chores.

"Where is this army?" Ventra said, jumping from her saddle.

"On its way home," I replied. "Stam has a group of hunters keeping track of them."

"All are gone?" Whinny asked.

"Masson and Dugger are resting in the tavern. They wish to see their sons, and witness Wolf justice," I confirmed.

Cathie climbed down from her horse slowly. It had been a hard ride, the horses lathered. She wasn't a kid anymore. I motioned for the stable boys to take the horses away.

"Counselor, we need to talk," I said.

"Tenay, what--" Ventra started.

"Ventra, your women have had a long ride. Get out of those dirty leathers. Belle is preparing a meal. There is no battle for you to fight. Not today."

The warrior women did not look happy, but what were they supposed to do?

"Kayla, take the prisoners to the watchtower," I instructed. "Have them wash up. Arl has new clothes for them."

"Yes, Tenay," Kayla quickly obeyed.

"You have taken over the village," Cathie said, though she wasn't complaining. She looked relieved, walking with me to Stam's cottage where a change of clothes waited. Lydia had food for her.

"I have taken much on myself, but found it necessary," I apologized.

"Tell me all," Cathie requested.

After my talk with Cathie, I spent an hour with Jared and Booter in the watchtower. Then an hour with Masson and Dugger. Ventra was growing impatient with me, which couldn't be helped. She was a warrior, not a diplomat.

The entire village assembled just before midnight, numbering close to twelve hundred. Torches ringed the town square. Bonfires were lit. Chairs and benches were arranged before a platform where Cathie sat wearing the robes of a magistrate. I remained off to the side with Whinny and Thrive, observant but not participating.

The young men were brought out, appropriately dressed, guarded by half a dozen lightly armed women. Masson and Dugger arrived, accompanied by Arl, taking seats near the back. They could see their sons, but no talking was allowed.

"You have worked hard on this," Whinny whispered.

"There is a saying among my people," I responded. "Never fight a war on two fronts. If savages are going to be a problem in the east, you don't need angry grasslanders coming at you from the west."

"Do you think this will work?" Thrive asked.

"That's not up to me. I've done my best. This is up to Cathie now."

The court was called to order. All stood as Cathie donned her ceremonial red cap. The long robes were decorated with yellow feathers.

"All may sit. Bring the accused forward," Cathie ordered.

Jared and Booter were led before the platform. By forest tradition, they were supposed to strip and get on their knees. Cathie did not ask that, which all watching noticed.

"You are accused of entering the lands of the Wolf Tribe with weapons intending to seize several of our women in violation of their rights," Cathie sternly announced. "How do you respond to these accusations?"

"I am guilty, Counselor," Jared humbly replied.

"I am guilty, too," Booter said.

"These are serious crimes. What have you to say?" Cathie asked.

"Speaking for us both, we apologize," Jared said. "It was thoughtless and arrogant. We beg your mercy."

"Some would say only death may mollify the injured pride of the Wolf Tribe," Cathie responded, causing the fathers to shift uncomfortably. "I have spoken of this with Tenay, a magistrate of the river valley, who assures this court of your sincerity. Does Tenay speak truly?"

"He does," Jared confirmed.

"Will you accept the judgement of this court?" Cathie pressed. "Without reservation?"

"We will," Jared answered.

If the village didn't realize it before, they did now. The entire proceeding had been choreographed behind closed doors.

"Then hear judgement," Cathie declared. "You, Jared, son of Masson, and Booter, son of Dugger, are sentenced to one year of service to the Wolf Tribe. You will live here, in Willowtown, on your honor not to leave or shirk your duties. Arl, husband of Stam, will instruct you in valuable skills that serve our community. So it is said, and so shall it be."

Cathie stood up and removed her red cap. The trial was over. Masson and Dugger rushed to embrace their sons. Ventra came up behind me.

"You weave webs like a spider," Ventra said. "The queen will be angry when she hears of this. Nor will Ota and Rotanna find you in favor."

"Justice was served, Ventra, and peace made. This is a good thing," I replied.

"I will not disagree. I only provide warning. Perhaps it is time for you to leave these lands?" she suggested.

"My status with your sisters has not been resolved."

"You bore weapons while saving True and Lydia. You bore a weapon seeking to rescue Rotanna's lost girls. You held a knife to Masson's throat. You are guilty of those crimes."

"I fear that is true," I agreed.

"Then leave. None here will stop you."

"I cannot leave until the question of the savages is answered."

The taverns were busy that night. While the younger people celebrated at the Plucked Goose, village elders and the relieved fathers drank at the Elk Horn. Arl played the banjo. It did not surprise me that Stam and Cathie found themselves at the same table as Masson and Dugger. I sat nearby with Whinny, close enough to hear.

"What do they speak of?" Whinny asked.

"What leaders always speak of," I said. "Boundaries. Trade. Mutual security. Annoying rivals. They're organizing a summer meeting."

"They keep looking in your direction," Whinny mentioned.

"They seek my favor should negotiations grow difficult."

"Who would you favor?"

"I will favor no one, but I will frown from time to time to keep them honest."

"You are a wise leader," Whinny concluded.

"No, just an old soldier who wants peace."

Deep into the morning hours, I climbed the stairs to my room ready for bed. There was a knock on the door.

"Sharona?" I said. She pushed her way in.

"I want company," Sharona said.

"That's a bit presumptuous," I replied.

"Are you a warrior or a monk?"

"I am not a monk," I answered.

* * * * * *

Chapter Twelve

Eagles on the Frontier

We lingered in Willowtown for several days, then loaded our wagon for the trek back to Taramont. Cathie seemed very pleased with herself, having reached trade agreements with Masson and Dugger. Stam was looking forward to new markets, her artisans eagerly stockpiling supplies. I noticed Kayla spending extra time with Jared. The young men had come to the Wolf lands looking for women and would now have a year to flirt with them.

"Thank you, Tenay. If we may ever repay you, don't be shy," Stam said, daring to give me a hug. She was intelligent, patient, and insightful. A good mayor.

"Come back any time," Arl urged. "We'll get drunk, go hunting, and make inventions. Sharona will be glad to see you."

The town was equally enthusiastic, offering many handshakes. Which surprised me. I was respected in the river valley, but not particularly loved.

"You could run for mayor," Cathie teased on the ride back.

It was a wide dirt wagon track, shaded by trees. A creek provided plenty of water for the horses.

"I have enough burdens, thank you," I said. "I've never sought to be a leader. I have been a dictator."

"Like a king? Or queen?" Cathie asked.

"In my early days on Ballor, the settlements were constantly arguing. Feuding. In denying the army resources, they created weaknesses for the savages to exploit. I finally lost my temper and put a stop to it."

"How did you do that?" Cathie wondered.

"With a torch," I replied.

There was a sullen mood when we reached Taramont. Nearly all thought the young trespassers deserved harsher punishment than they'd received. With their cage now empty, Ota demanded that I should take their place.

I dropped my bedroll in the tent next to the cage, not anxious to become an occupant, and went to unload the wagon. The horses needed feeding and grooming. There was a surprise when I returned from the stables.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"We are making adjustments to your cage," Lydia said.

A dozen young warriors were busy with saws and hammers, attaching wooden slats to the steel bars, putting up a roof, and building a plank floor. They added hooks for my shirts, a bearskin carpet, and a potbelly stove. A straw bed was mounted in the corner. It looked more like a beach hut than a prison. No longer confined to her underground palace, Queen Allandra watched everything from her porch, frowning, as Ota whispered in her ear.

One morning, while I was sweeping out the sheep pen, Allandra appeared followed by two of her personal guard arrayed in long black cloaks, steel helmets, and carrying spears. Allandra stood and stared.

"You are not so special," she said. The Queen was a small thing, unlike her more robust subjects. She stomped her foot when I didn't say anything.

"Answer me!" she demanded.

"You didn't ask a question, Highness," I replied.

"Males think they are so smart. Smarter than anybody."

"What do you know of males?" I calmly asked, seeing her blush.

"My women fight over you. Ota and Ventra. Rotanna and Thrive. Cathie and me. You have been a disturbance from the day you arrived."

"I fear that is true," I responded.

"You will not be a disturbance much longer," she swore, walking away. It was only the second time I had ever spoken with her.

I finished my chores for the day, and as it was still warm, went down to the lake for a swim. It occurred to me that I hadn't been fishing since my capture. Would a fishing pole be considered a weapon? I made a basket trap near the embankment, and then found soap root to take a bath. I was approached a few minutes later, startled. I covered myself with my hands. Ventra smirked at my shyness.

"Tenay, we will be leaving in the morning," she announced.

"So soon? We just got back a few days ago."

"You will be gone for many weeks. Be prepared," she ordered.

Ventra marched back up the hill without further comment. Apparently she knew something I didn't. Since returning to Taramont, nothing unusual had happened. I did chores around the stables, worked in the gardens, and the women were either friendly or tolerant. None of the leaders appeared anxious to speak with me. Packing my belongings took less than three minutes.

A large party departed the next morning. Only senior warriors loyal to Ventra were permitted, along with all of Whinny's junior warriors. Forty of us in all. A caravan of a dozen two-wheeled carts carried tools, nails, spikes, and cooking pots.

"What is this, War Leader?" I finally dared to ask as we reached the prairie.

"We travel to the Well, there to build a fort," Ventra said. "And I am not your war leader. You are supposed to call me Ventra."

"Yes, Ventra," I acknowledged.

After a full day's journey, we reached the pond. Spring grasses were giving way to summer. A modest river meandered at the bottom of a gentle slope. We made camp, erecting tents in a glade.

In the weeks that followed, the women leveled the ground, cut down trees, and brought mud up from the river. I was given an ax for timbering, told it was a tool and not a weapon. It was good exercise.

"Marvelous work for so short a time," I said to Whinny, taking a much-needed break.

In twenty-one days, we had erected a barracks large enough for twelve, a headquarters, stables, a cellar for food storage, and a stockade. We even had a covered sewage pit for disposing of waste. It would take time to strengthen the walls, but for something constructed so quickly on the frontier, the fort was an oasis. I suggested we name it Fort Thera, after the brave young woman who died not far from our walls.

"We return to Taramont in the morning," Ventra announced as we enjoyed a meal of wild boar. We were in the officer's quarters large enough for the senior warriors to bunk. The junior warriors were heard in the barracks, drinking and sometimes singing.

"Am I returning, too?" I asked.

"No. You will remain here with Thrive. She is your custodian."

"What if I escape?" I asked.

Ventra laughed and refilled my cup. Thrive and Whinny laughed, too.

"You wish to explore the mountain passes for signs of the savages," Ventra explained. "This is your chance. Every ten days, I will send you eight women and a junior commander to train. You will teach them how to fight the savages. Take them on patrols. After ten days, they will return, and I will send the next group."

"I'm surprised by this," I said.

"Do you refuse?" Ventra asked with a frown.

"I do not refuse. I will do my best."

"Have you trained warriors before?" Whinny asked.

"When your young warriors return, you will be proud of them," I promised.

"Not all agree with my decision," Ventra admitted. "Come fall, I may no longer be war leader. But until that time, I will do what's necessary."

"Your people are fortunate to have you. I hope they will not prove short-sighted."

"That is not your concern," Ventra responded. "Do you require anything?"

"Yes. Please have the next supply trip bring a large kettle, copper tubing, and an aged barrel."

"A barrel?" Whinny said.

"Yes. These fields are rich in barley, grain, and hops. I will brew my own beer."

"Save a cup for me," Ventra requested.

* * * * * *

I had been exiled from the political drama at Taramont. Thrive remained with me as my official jailer. She was twenty-six now, medium height, with long auburn hair and dark green eyes. I found her calm, hardworking, and alert. What she didn't know about living off the land, she learned quickly. Had I been five years younger, or she five years older, I've have taken an interest, for she was very companionable.

"Will this be too dull for you?" I asked on our first quiet night in our new headquarters.

"Dull?" she said.

"Stranded on the plain with an old man."

"I don't expect our time will be dull. When I became a warrior, I thought we'd be travelling to other lands. Meeting new people. Waging battles against enemies. But all we do is repair the fort. Hunt the same lands. Threaten trespassers, who run away. I'm excited that Ventra chose me for this duty."

"You are growing old for a junior warrior, are you not?"

"Promotion is difficult with so many having so little to do, but it won't be much longer. All I need are a few more skills. Which I expect to learn from you."

"From me?"

"Floy says you have much to offer, if Ota and the Queen allow it."

While waiting for the first batch of recruits, Thrive and I were not idle. The meadows, woods, and hills offered an amazing variety of plant life. We gathered vegetables, nuts, herbs, and spices. Glass jars stored our preserves. Clay from the river was used to make vases. When Thrive found a peach orchard, I made a stone oven to bake pies. With a herd of bison nearby, we cured hides, feasted on broiled steaks, and stockpiled the bones.

There was a particular task I decided on. Finding a thick block of oak, I carved an eagle like the ones my brothers and sisters had bravely fought under for so many years. It was placed above our gate. Maybe our academy wasn't so fine as Agrippa on the Tiber, but we'd have just as much pride.

Groups of young women arrived every ten or twelve days. They always brought their new shields, fresh weapons, supplies, and enthusiasm. Whinny's junior warriors were the first I trained, then Kestra's. Rotanna's warriors also made the trek, though Rotanna did not accompany them.

The training was vigorous. As my sergeants had instructed me, I was constantly demanding they straighten their shoulders, tighten their lines, control their thrusts, and go beyond endurance to the next level. They went to their bunks exhausted, and were up early to start again. Each tour ended with a mounted scout into the mountains.

One afternoon, supply carts arrived guarded by my old crew. It was great to see True, Lydia, and Kayla again. They brought wine and we gossiped. They also wanted to join the scout into the mountains.

"We have been paying special attention to Splinter Passage," I explained. "Selena says the last large migration came through there."

On the final day of training, our group was riding with flankers out as we approached a deep canyon. Kayla and I had the lead, True and Lydia close behind.

"Look, Tenay. They have been here," Kayla said, seeing the torn remains of a deer herd.

"The savages prey on fawns, and when the mothers come to save them, they are taken down, too," I explained. "If this was a human village, they'd go after the babies first."

"They must be stopped," Lydia swore.

"It takes warriors to stop them. And dedication. And skill," I replied.

"We are the Wolf Tribe. We will prevail," True swore, waving a fist. She was maturing, like her sisters. Still feisty, but gaining a sharp eye and calmer judgement.

Though we did not always encounter savages on these patrols, there was enough evidence to convince everyone of the danger. As summer waned, I knew the savages would retreat to their burrows for the winter. These were burned out when discovered.

There was a situation I wasn't sure how to deal with. Thrive and I worked side by side, and she wasn't so young as my daughters. She was a mature woman, and very attractive. Strong. Athletic. Shapely in all the right places. One night, when we were the only two in the fort, she came into my room without her nightclothes, and climbed into my bed. We coupled like two stranded souls seeking comfort, and we found it. Neither of us were seeking a permanent bond, but our nights together were filled with passion. I truly felt like a man again, not the child of my youth, capable of providing excitement, and solace, and compassion. Thrive was no less dedicated, giving herself completely. Outside of our encounters, no words were ever spoken. We were not lovers, but we became friends on a level few could understand.

For myself, it was uncertain whether I would finally return to Twin Forks when winter arrived. I was occasionally tempted to leave, but the women weren't ready yet. It was troubling. At the end of the season, Fort Thera had a surprise visitor.

"Ota? You are far from home," I said, greeting her at the gate.

She was still the senior warrior I remembered, in her early thirties, with broad shoulders, trimmed brown hair, and aggressive brown eyes. Though not so tall as her cousin Ventra, she presented a formidable presence.

"You are looking well, Tenay," Ota replied, letting Thrive take her horse. Rotanna and seven of her senior officers were with her.

"Have you come to take me back?" I asked.

"Not yet, though that day is coming," she answered.

Thrive and I gave her a tour of the fort, much improved over the last ten weeks. We had gardens, a water tower, a tannery for our kills, and a brewery. The barracks was comfortable, with a rock fireplace for cooking and straw mattresses. The headquarters Thrive and I enjoyed was almost luxurious, with fur carpets, drapes over the windows, a sweat lodge, and an indoor latrine.

"What may I do for you?" I asked after the newcomers were settled. We were seated at the supper table in the headquarters where the commanders stayed during their visits.

"I want you to train my officers," Ota said. "Train them harder, and better, and more relentlessly than any of the others."

"All the girls get the best training we can provide," Thrive insisted.

"And now you will provide better," Ota demanded. "I resented this experiment at first. Fought against it. But the trainees are coming back with a pride I've not seen in many years. A confidence that bespeaks power. My women will not be denied."

"They will not be denied," I agreed.

"I will train with them in the ranks. I must feel everything they feel," Ota said.

"Sister, you are not a baby anymore," Thrive warned. "Senior warriors command for a reason."

"Does Tenay not share the burdens of those he trains? As I have been told?"

"Tenay is accustomed to these exercises," Thrive explained.

"He's an old man turning gray. I can bear anything he can," Ota replied. She dug into her travel bag, taking out a wooden sword and placing it on the table.

"I am not allowed weapons, Ota," I said, leaning back.

"My women need the best training, and this is not a weapon. It's a toy."

"It's heavy and dangerous. It can do serious damage," I corrected.

Ota pressed the sword into my hands. "It's a toy. Don't say different," she insisted.

"Would you like more beer?" I asked.

Thrive and I did not cheat on a rigorous training schedule. Eight women would form the line, the ninth commanding in reserve. They would constantly change places, each warrior learning every position. Using savage claws mounted on rods, Thrive and I would attack, and attack, and attack, growling, snarling, bashing, and shouting "Argarah! Argarah!" Then I'd yell at them for not being good enough, and we'd attack again.

The days were long, but Ota kept up with me. And I kept up with her. Neither of us would give the other the satisfaction of yielding first. At night, we sat in our headquarters enjoying the steam room while soaking bruises in ointment.

"I overestimated you," Ota said as we drank beer and ate shank steaks.

"In what way?" I asked.

"You get more tired than any of the girls. You can barely move out of that chair."

"I still have a few good years left in me, if your Queen permits."

"You did not bring weapons into our lands, or seek to exploit our women," Ota said. "As for other suspicions, I doubt they can rise to anything serious."

"I've heard rumors of these other suspicions," I pressed, seeking to know her thoughts.

"I will be war leader in the fall," Ota replied. "What is or isn't a weapon will be for me to decide."

I would not argue with her further. If Ota felt my occasional resort to clubs and tent poles could be overlooked, I had nothing to gain by disagreeing.

After twelve days of rigorous drills, we finished their tour with a scouting mission to Wide Bottom Pass. Of the various passes through the Blue Mountains, Wide Bottom was always the last to get snowed in, and the weather was turning cold.

"Will we see any savages?" Rotanna asked as we rode along the riverbank.

"We might. It's their last chance to forage before winter. But we won't engage, just observe," I explained.

"If we find savages, we will attack," Ota disagreed.

"It's not necessary," I protested. "With their burrows burned out, they may withdraw to their breeding grounds in the east."

"My women need experience, and I want revenge for Rona, Thera, and Mos. Rotanna was commanding them, but they were still my girls."

"There will be plenty of savages to kill in the spring," I offered.

"There are plenty of savages to kill now," Ota insisted.

"You are the senior commander," I conceded, for it wasn't my decision to make.

We had ridden half a day, it being cloudy. I hoped we wouldn't need to camp out on the range in the rain. A shallow creek ran from the mouth of the canyon, and there were tracks. Ota asked my advice.

"Let's keep our backs to the low ridge," I suggested. "Thrive and I will watch the horses while you set on whatever we find. If the odds are too much, we'll need to withdraw."

"You are cautious," Ota said.

"I don't lose my people unnecessarily."

"Your people?"

"You brought them to me for training. They are my responsibility."

"We will not risk our people," Ota compromised.

A few kilometers short of the pass, we found the freshly torn remains of an elk. Bears and wolves can do such damage, but savages are distinctive. Tracks did not indicate a large group, perhaps ten or fifteen. We dismounted, watching the thick brush and trees along the creek bed.

"There," Rotanna said, pointing to six females foraging for roots.

"The males will be close by," I warned.

The warriors dismounted and lined up in formation as Ota took command. Thrive and I stayed back, remaining mounted, holding their horses in two groups. The female savages looked up, wondering whether to attack or flee. When they did neither, I motioned to the left. Ota saw the gesture and shifted her line just as a dozen savages abruptly burst from the foliage, claws out and screaming their war cries. The two forces clashed. Ota's line held their ground.

"They are doing well," Thrive remarked.

"The flanks need tightening," I replied.

It appeared to be a brief but violent encounter. The women were frightened and excited, but executing according to their training. The savages tried to overcome their shields only to be jabbed and cut by swords coming up from below. An occasional overhand blow would take down a savage climbing over the top. Ota moved back and forth, encouraging her women, jabbing with a spear when needed.

"Look, Tenay. Look how well they fight," Thrive proudly said, seeing several savages slain.

Suddenly we had activity on our right. Another group of savages had heard the noise and come running. Though trained to the scent of savages, our horses were startled, becoming difficult. I released my group, knowing they could outdistance the attackers. Thrive tried to release hers, but became entangled in the reins.

"Tenay!" she called out. Ota heard her, too, turning to look.

I tried to calm the nearest horse, but a savage lunged over the saddle, raking my head with a foreclaw while knocking me to the ground. If I'd had a real sword, the beast would have been cut in half. The wooden sword Ota gave me only stunned it, and by then the horses were dragging Thrive away.

I stumbled after her, was jumped by two more savages, and was forced to fight them off, finding myself cut and bitten several times. On other scouts, I'd carried my stone age club, but hadn't dared to do that in Ota's presence.

After finally killing one of the creatures with a rock and scaring off the other, I ran to catch up with Thrive. Savages were doing the same, and they were closer. Tied together, the horses were bumping into each other, unable to break into a run.

Thrive had stayed mounted for a time, but was now on the ground struggling to get free. Half a dozen savages were closing in. One monstrous creature blocked my path at a crucial moment, causing me to lose hope. And then an arrow tore into its chest. Ota left six warriors to deal with the remaining savages and was coming to the rescue. I ran past a pair of savages, striking them with the rock, which only slowed them down, and reached Thrive. Her legs and arms were bleeding from being dragged. She seemed stunned. I drew her knife, cut the reins loose, and tried to get her up. Savages swarmed over us.

Swinging the rock in one hand and slashing with the knife in the other, I knocked two savages off Thrive, then backed up, dropping the rock to take hold of her shoulders. Ota's warriors were firing more arrows, providing a distraction. I saw a greenbrier bush, forbidden to the savages because of the poisonous berries. Thrive had too many open wounds to be exposed, but I had developed a mild tolerance. I took off my cloak, wrapped Thrive as tightly as possible, and dragged her into the brush. Savages followed, at first, before the fragrance made them back away.

The fighting continued for another fifteen minutes. We heard Ota shouting orders, the women responding, and the death cries of dying enemies. Thrive and I remained in our sanctuary until Ota came to get us. Twelve savages had been killed, and many more wounded. It counted as a victory.

"How is my sister?" Ota asked as we emerged.

"She needs help," I replied.

"How are you?"

"I need to wash out these cuts as quickly as possible."

I looked down, saw Thrive's knife where I dropped it, and returned it to her sheath. No one said anything.

Thrive and I couldn't stay in our poisoned clothes. The forest women helped us to the nearest creek where I washed with soap root. Fortunately, my horse had not run off. Rotanna fetched my medical bag and we set to work on Thrive. Yellow root and gin leaves were used to disinfect. Ointments were necessary to reduce swelling.

"Those cuts look bad," Rotanna said, working at my side.

"She'll be all right," I assured her.

Once the necessities were taken care of, I let Rotanna takeover. My skin was breaking out in painful rashes. Poppy tears helped. Most of the women were trying to round up the horses.

"Thank you. My sister would have died," Ota said when we had a quiet moment.

"It's a soldier's duty. And Thrive is my friend," I said.

"Thrive lost a lot of blood," Ota worried.

"She needs to be moved carefully, but we have medicines at Fort Thera that will bring her through."

"We should make a night march," Ota said.

"Let's not waste any time," I agreed.

I had the women make a travois for Thrive, then realized that parts of the trail were too rough. Having lost our clothes, Thrive and I were given pieces of other garments. It got cold as the sun set. Ota gave me her cloak.

When we reached a rocky section, I had Thrive lifted into my lap, carrying her until the ground flattened out again. I was relieved to see her coming around.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"Heading home. We'll be there in a few hours," I replied.

"Why are we not dead?" she asked.

"It was not our time," I answered, squeezing her close.

I had traveled the trail often enough not to be confused, and the three-quarter moon offered help. We made good time going back.

"Wooden walls never looked so good," Rotanna said, approaching Fort Thera as the sun was rising.

I wanted to say something, but lacked the energy. Between the wounds and carrying Thrive, I was barely staying in the saddle. Upon entering the gate, Ota and Rotanna helped me down.

"What should we do?" Rotanna asked.

"Start a fire in the headquarters. Heat soup. Find the blue bottle in the medicine chest," I instructed. "Everyone else, take care of the horses. Make breakfast."

Thrive was weak but alert. I added ointment to her wounds. Ota entered, frowned, and changed my bandages. Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep, waking in my own bed later that afternoon.

My rashes were itchy, requiring lotion. Thankfully, they had not festered, for vomiting and fevers were not unknown.

Ota helped me dress and aided me to the table. Thrive was up, bruised but looking better. She gave me a smile.

"It was a brave fight," Ota said, pouring beer.

"We need to train horse holders," I suggested. "In a cavalry unit, one rider in four holds the horses while the other three fight."

"No woman will want to hold horses while her sisters fight," Rotanna said.

"You know what is needed. You'll need to find the solution," I said, drinking deeply of my brew. I made a good beer.

"Fall has arrived. When your wounds heal, we will return to Taramont," Ota said.

"Thrive will be ready in a few days, if we travel in easy stages," I recommended.

"And you?" Ota asked.

"I need time to close the fort," I replied.

* * * * * *

As Quinten seeks a way to defend the forest women from a brutal savage migration, the Wolf queen seeks her revenge.